Another Riddle
by Hales13
Summary: Post HBP goes in DH. Spoiler warning, as there are some actions taken from DH. What happens when there's a new member to the Order... and she's got a relative no one expected. RR please! I'm new here lol
1. Prologue

I don't own anything but the characters I make up myself

Post HPB, some action from DH so be careful for spoilers

Prologue

The rain pounded on the numerous stained glass window panes as a storm thundered outside of the warm castle. Within the walls, the inhabitants looked at each other in silence, looking around the now empty halls and corridors. It seemed strange to them that no students walked through the halls, causing trouble and running to classes, especially now that so much tragedy was at hand and that there was still more in the future. It had only been one day since they had sent the students home on the train, only two since the funeral that had shocked the population. One woman stood, her usually strong figure slight and frail looking in the dim lights and flashing lightning, left the group, walking away, towards a large stone gargoyle.

"Password?" it asked, its mouth frowning, stone tears in its eyes.

"Tragedy," the woman replied. The gargoyle nodded and moved out of the way, allowing the woman through, who patted it as she passed. "I know, I miss him, too."

Without another word she climbed a large staircase and entered an elaborate office. With tears in her eyes, she looked around the room at the portraits on the wall, but none of the inhabitants were paying any attention to her, they were staring at the large frame on the floor at her feet. The velvet background stood blank as she picked it up, as she did so, all the eyes in the portraits stared at her, many with tears in their eyes, some with blank, almost shocked looks on their faces. Never had any of them believed that this portrait would join them so soon.

"Oh, get on with it, Minerva!" one of them shouted in despair at the woman holding the frame. She was joined by a chorus of "Yes, pleases".

Minerva McGonagall turned to face the past Headmasters and Headmistresses of the school and pointed her wand at the frame, muttering under breath. The frame whooshed through the air, and flew to the wall directly behind the desk. Once it had situated itself, the purple background soon became inhabited, and a familiar face soon entered the frame. He looked around once or twice, chuckled to himself.

"Well," he said to no one in particular, "this is definitely a new point of view. I never realized my things were so out of place. I must let the next resident know… Now, now, why is everybody so sorrowful?"

"Albus…" McGonagall whispered, before breaking into tears and sprinting from the office. The portraits took handkerchiefs out of random pockets and watched her leave before turning to their newest addition.

"Goodness," he said, "that was very odd. I mean, I have died, but that is no reason for tears. I quite like this spot, as a matter of fact."

"Oh, Albus, what did you expect?" one witch asked. "You were a pinnacle of hope for the witches and wizards of the world in this dark time. Who knows what they will do without you?"

"My dear, there are many people who are extremely capable of defeating Lord Voldemort without me. Harry Potter for instance…"

"…Is an untrained, underage, egotistic young man," one man said.

"Phineas, do not judge him so soon…" Albus Dumbledore said, before chuckling and wandering out of his portrait, to 'explore the school'.

Meanwhile, Minerva McGonagall and many of the other teachers were sitting in the Great Hall with a few others. They were talking animatedly and pointing to a piece of parchment that seemed to be the cause of the argument. McGonagall was pointing furiously, as two men walked through the doors at the other end of the hall. She glanced up in surprise as she saw them, and quickly rolled up the parchment and tied it shut with a purple ribbon. The others looked at her for a moment, extremely confused, until they turned to face the very serious looking men who approached.

"We are here for the Last Will and Testament of Albus Dumbledore, recently deceased Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Our office was told that it was in the care of Minerva McGonagall. We must also have the items indicated in the will, so as to examine them," the taller of the two stated coldly.

"I do have the will," McGonagall stated with equal chill.

"Then hand it over."

"Very well," McGonagall replied, handing over the parchment, "but there's nothing out of the ordinary there. We have already thoroughly examined each object and found nothing out of place with any of them."

"That is not for you to decide. We shall hand over the items when they have passed our own tests. Good day to you."

The men left as suddenly as they came, and left the group alone once more. McGonagall looked around and was about to speak when she was interrupted by the appearance of a beautiful bird that the group recognized as a phoenix. She opened the letter it carried and read it quickly to herself, before gasping and dropping it to the table. The man closest to her retrieved it and read it to the group.

To the Order of the Phoenix:

I have every confidence that this letter will in no way be intercepted, and thus feel safe writing these thoughts down. You will very soon be joined by another, a girl of 21. Everything she tells you about her family and background is true, but I ask you not to mention what she relays to you to Harry Potter and his friends. It is up to her to reveal herself to them.

My fondest goodbyes to all of you,

Albus Dumbledore

The group looked around in shock as the final words were read, and even more when the doors of the hall opened a second time and a young woman walked through the door. She carried a rucksack and looked as though she has been traveling for days. Her black hair was cut short and held back by a green scarf. Her violet eyes looked at them wearily as they stared back at her; one woman jumped from her seat and walked over to the girl, leading her by the hand to the rest of the group and conjuring a chair from thin air. She sat down, realizing that she was being watched by the strangers around her. She looked gratefully at the plump, red-haired woman who had conjured her seat, then turned to the rest of them.

"Good evening, my name is Autumn Rose, Autumn Rose Riddle," she stated, as they stared at her in surprise.


	2. The Arrival

Chapter 1- The Arrival

Autumn looked around the small room in the cozy home that belonged to the Weasley family. Ginny, the youngest and only daughter, had offered to share her room willingly with the new addition. It was silent in the early morning hours, but as she stared out the window at the calm night sky, disturbances from below caused her to explore the house further. She heard a booming voice that she recognized as one of the people she had met originally at Hogwarts, but he sounded much more distressed this night. She was about to climb the stairs when she heard a new voice. She could tell from the tone of the voices that it was probably a bad time to walk into the little kitchen, and turned once more to the stairs, but her curiosity soon became too much, and she knew that she could not resist the temptation any longer. She quietly entered the kitchen, noting a large man in the corner with a handkerchief to his eyes and Mrs. Weasley tending to a third individual whom Autumn had never seen, but had heard much about. Not paying attention, she collided with a chair, causing the attention of the others to go to her.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… " she started, but was cut off by the entrance of two more people. Mr. Weasley and his son, Ron, whom Autumn had only spoken to a few times, seemed to appear out of nowhere. Both looked shaken, and were glancing nervously around the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley turned from the stranger to her husband and son, leaving the young man alone to look around. He caught Autumn's eye and nodded, an inquiring look on his face. She merely nodded in return, offering no explanation, and turned to begin boiling water for tea to give her something to do in assistance. She silently handed out tea cups once it was ready, receiving grateful smiles from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She reached Ron and the other young man, who had been whispering and glancing at her for the last few minutes, and she knew that Ron had been explaining her presence in the house. With a small smile, she handed the two tea cups to them, and for a moment Autumn's violet eyes met his green ones. A jolt went through her, and she noticed his hand shoot to a spot on his forehead, staring at her in surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but the arrival of more people kept any thoughts he may have had from becoming vocal, and saved Autumn the difficult task of explaining herself.

Autumn turned around and handed a cup of tea to a girl around her height with bushy brown hair and an intelligent glint in her eye. She accepted it with a smile, but soon forgot it when she saw the two young men Autumn had just left, running over to them and hugging them each in turn. Autumn smirked, but said nothing as she continued to help Mrs. Weasley with the people who were slowly filling the small kitchen. She recognized the older members of the Order of the Phoenix who had been there when she had first arrived at Hogwarts, a few greeted her warmly, but others looked at her with suspiscion, which she understood. Slowly, as people became grounded, they began to take a census of who stood in the kitchen, and who had yet to arrive, which caused many nervous members to escape out into the garden. A knock at the door caused the remaining members to glance nervously at the door, but no one moved until the knocks became desperate and Mrs. Weasley, wand raised opened the door.

"Identify yourself," she said.

"I am Remus Lupin, werewolf and husband to Nymphadora, often known as Tonks," a voice responded.

"Oh, Remus, come in, come in." Autumn looked up as a weary, ragged looking man entered the tiny kitchen. He looked around, as if taking an inventory. "There are others out back in the gardens, Remus."

"Tonks?" he asked, but Mrs. Weasley shook her head.

"She hasn't gotten here yet."

"What happened?"

"I'm not quite sure, no one would explain, they're all too shook up, and they're allwaiting for the others. Oh, Remus, I can't take this. I still have a son out there, and your wife…"

"I know, Molly, I know. Come on, let's go out to gardens to wait for them."

"I'd rather stay in here, in case they apparate, or take a portkey, or… or…"

"Mrs. Weasley," Autumn said, "I can stay in here and watch the kitchen. If they come in here, you'll be the first to find out. Go outside, it's a beautiful clear night and the fresh air might help you calm down."

"Yes, of course. You're right, my dear. Come along then Remus… if George and Tonks do show up…"

"I'll come and get you right away." Mrs. Weasley smiled and allowed Lupin to lead her from the house. He turned back and nodded his thanks to her before exiting the room himself. Autumn sat with a sigh, then stood right back up when she noticed all the untouched tea cups. Shaking her head, she began to clean up, and was surprised to see three other pairs of hands grabbing cups as well. She looked up and saw Ron and his friends helping.

"Thank you, for helping my mother like that," Ron said, which surprised Autumn, who had received nothing but cool indifference from him since she got there. "She tends to be everyone's mother, and can usually burn herself out…" His voice trailed off.

"It was no problem. Obviously something terrible happened out there tonight, and I'm not quite sure what, but it's affected all of you and I couldn't just stand by and let your mother kill herself to help all the others." Ron smiled at her for the first time, and turned to his friends.

"Oh, yeah, Autumn, this is Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Harry's the one we went to get tonight." Autumn smiled and held out her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Autumn Rose," she replied.

"Pleasure," Harry said, surprised that she hadn't reacted at all when his name had been mentioned. Most people at least had the involuntary glance at his forehead, but from her, nothing.

"Very nice to meet you, Autumn. Where are you from?"

"I'm originally from London, but I moved to the States when I was very young with my mother. I've only just returned."

Hermione was about to answer when there was a large crack, causing the small group to spin around and stare at the two new people who stood before them. A woman stood dumbstruck, looking around the nearly empty kitchen. Her short hair flashed colors wildly, as did her eyes, as tears streamed down her face. At her feet sat a pale, unconscious youth, his bright red hair a bad contrast to the grayness of his face. Autumn glanced at the garden, but the people had not heard what had happened. Shaking, she sprinted to the door and pulled it open.

"Mrs. Weasley! They're back!" She yelled. The group turned, but did not seem to comprehend what she had said, until Mrs. Weasley sprinted to the door and into the kitchen, followed closely by Lupin.

"Tonks, what's…" she said, before noticing the figure at her feet. "George! Oh dear, what… his ear! What happened to his ear?"

"Snape…" Tonk's replied, "… he showed up and cursed it off… stupid git."

"Oh dear," she whispered before turning to mend her son the best she could. Lupin put an arm around Tonks and led her to a chair, setting her down, as Hermione handed her a cup of tea.

"There's more," Tonks said. "Moody's gone, dead. He got disarmed, Fletcher bolted, and they knocked him off his broom. He fell, and… I saw his body hit the ground. It was terrible."

The group looked at her in shock, there was no way that that could have happened, Moody was tough, strongest of all of them, how could he be gone, it wasn't possible. The solemn silence that fell over the group was chilling, and Autumn shivered uncomfortably, pulling her hoody tightly around herself. The entire room seem stunned by this development, no one seemed to be able to grasp it, and Autumn understood why. She had only known the man a month, but he seemed much stronger than ony of them, and had taught her more charms and defensive magic that any one else had ever. Bill and Lupin stood suddenly, causing everyone to start.

"The body… we have to find the… body." The group stared blankly as the two of them left the room, a gloomy look on every face. In the corner, Hermion had started to sob into Ron's shoulder. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley was attempting to stop the bleeding from the hole in George's head, but nothing seemed to be working.

"Mrs. Weasley," Autumn whispered, breaking away from Harry and the others, "may I try something?"

"Can you help him? I know you have different abilities, you're special, he said so. Can you help him?"

"I can try," Autumn said, turning away from the inquisitive glances of the younger members of the group who had not been there the night she first arrived. She silently turned her attention to the bleeding gash in the side of the twin's head and placed her hands on either side of his face, her right hand directly over the gash, blood gushing over it. She then began to chant softly. As the group stared at her, a gold light began to glow from her hand. Everyone in the room felt a warm, loving aura wash over them, forgetting, for just a moment that the world was at war. Autumn looked down as the blood began to slow, and the wound began to slowly heal. As it stopped, Autumn ended her chant and removed her hands. The warmth and love drained from the room as quickly as it had come and everyone turned their eyes toward her. She ignored them, slowly going over to the sink and washing the blood from her hands as Mrs. Weasley examined her son's head.

"His ear…"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, but he will never get that ear back, magic can do a lot, but it can't grow back body parts, especially body parts that have been cursed off," Autumn whispered. "It's late, perhaps bed is in order, George will need to rest in order to recover fully and I have a strong feeling that everyone will need to be fully recovered from tonight's events."

"Yes, of course. Bedtime everyone. Hermione, there's a spot left in Ginny's room, I believe she put another cot in there anyways, I should go and check…"

"It's fine, Mrs. Weasley, there's one in there. She set it up last night. Come on, Hermione, Harry, Ron, I think we should go." The three stared at her for a moment, back at George, and followed her without question. The silently climbed the stairs, Autumn in fron of the other three. She stopped before Ginny's door, which was slightly ajar, though she had shut it. She smiled and shook her head, knowing the youngest Weasley had followed her down the stairs. Of all the people in the Order, of all the people she had met here so far, Ginny was the one she related to the most. She was always kept out of the important conversations, not because she was not trusted, as Autumn was, but because she was far too young, though only a year away from being an Of-age witch. It was Ginny that Autumn found herself talking to and it was Ginny who knew all the things that she had not told to anyone else. Autumn pushed open the door and was followed closely by Hermione, who was saying good night to the boys. They nodded to her before making their way to the attic.

"I thought you said there was another cot in here…" Hermione said looking around.

"I didn't want Mrs. Weasley to start fretting. She needed to rest. Take it, I won't need it tonight. I'm not going to be sleeping. Then again, something tells me neither one of you were planning on it either, isn't that right Ginny?" Autumn said, looking over at the girl who started from her fake sleep.

"How did you know I was up?" she asked.

"I closed the door when I left, you left it ajar. It's alright, I won't tell your mother. So, Hermione, what questions were you told to ask me?"

"What, how did you know…"

"I'm a new person who magically healed a giant hole in someone's head and who none of you knows anything about, not even Ron, because I've been spending all of my time in here. So, ask away."

"No. I told them that I wouldn't bother you. Not tonight, not until you want to tell us everything on your own, because something tells me that you didn't just randomly show up. Good night, Autumn, good night, Ginny." With that, she turned away and laid down on the cot. Autumn looked at her in surprise, grateful that she hadn't been bombarded with questions.

"She's usually like that," Ginny said. "She doesn't like it when people do that to her, she doesn't do it to any one else."

"Girl after my own heart. You really should get some sleep, Ginny. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"Tell me what happened first."

"Ginny…"

"Please. I saw most of what was going on, but I left before I could see whether George and Tonks got back. Autumn, you know I have a right to know."

"Alright, I'll tell you what happened. If you promise to sleep, and not sneak out of here to spy."

"Promise… but you can't blame me that my parents and the rest of the Order don't tell me anything. I just want to know what's happening to my friends and family."

"I understand. Believe me…" Autumn said, before recounting what had happened in the kitchen to the girl.

"So Harry got here OK then?" she said, sounding relieved by the news. Autumn nodded.

"Others weren't so lucky though," she said, and told her what had happened to George and Moody. Tears welled up in Ginny's eyes as she was told the her older brother no longer had an ear, but was amazed when Autumn told her how he had been healed.

"You said you could heal, but I didn't think you could heal like that. That's amazing."

Autumn finished her tale and sat down at the window. Ginny stared at her for a while, before the drowsiness got the better of her. Once Autumn was sure she was sleeping, she left her spot at the window, snuck from the room and left the house, entering the unkempt gardens that made up the Burrow's backyard. As she got out of sight of the house, and owl flew down, dropping a letter before her. Knowing what it said, she picked it up without care. These letters were useless, but he didn't need to know that. It was for the best that got them, for then she would know what was going on in the other parts of the world. She understood his attachment, understood that he cared, but there was no way she could ever return there. She needed to find herself here, she needed to end it, so that she could be free from the shadowed past that haunted her.

A noise along the path made her swing around to face the one person she had not wanted to be alone with. Harry stood there in pajama pants and an oversized hoodie with the Gryffindor symbol on it, silently staring at her, green eyes into purple. Again she felt a jolt of pain and saw him clutch his forehead. She quickly stuffed the letter into her back jean pocket and pulled the black Atreyu hoodie she wore tightly around her, though the night was anything but cold. Her old converse dug into the dirt as she waited for him to say something, but he simply stared.

"I didn't realize Hogwarts manufactured clothing," she said, smirking.

"It diesn't. Hermione made it for me as a birthday present last year."

"I see. What are you doing out here. I would suspect Mrs. Weasley would be freaking out if she found out that you were walking around alone."

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"I would expect that none of you would be able to. That was quite a night you had. Do they have any ideas on how someone found out when you were supposed to leave? I was under the impression that no one was supposed to know."

"That's what I was told, too. I have no idea. I wish I did, but I don't."

"I see."

"Yeah," he said, and was silent. She looked at him, wondering what it was that he wanted to hear. "How do you know Ron and his family?" he asked after a few moments.

"I don't. I just got here a month ago. I don't know anyone here extremely well, except for maybe Ginny. I just received a letter last May telling me to come here in June."

"That seems strange, who wrote the letter?"

"The headmaster the day before he died."

"Dumbledore wrote you the letter?"

"Yes. He did."

"Can you tell me why?"

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to share that at this time. But you will know soon enough. I suppose I can't keep it quiet for long."

The two stood in silence once more, the world seemd to have been put on mute, except for the few owls flying over head. Autum turned away and looked up at the clear, peaceful sky. The crystal starts twinkled. To any other person, the stars would yield nothing of the terrors that were going on, but to Autumn they screamed loudly, warning of the immense dangers that everyone was in and the death that was in the future. She shivered slightly in spite of herself and turned back to the letter in her pocket, having the sudden urge to read the words. As she stared at the print on the front, she realized that the writing did not belong to who she thought it was. It was small and neat, almost too perfect. She turned it over and noticed a mark on the back, a mark that she did not expect to see, his mark, the Dark Mark. In her surprise, she dropped the letter on the ground, causing Harry to come toward her and make to pick up the letter. She swooped down quickly, grabbed it before he could and stuffed it back in her pocket. This was a letter she would have to read alone.

"Come on, Harry, we should get back inside, I think we both need to get some sleep." With that, Autumn turned around and headed back to the house, Harry following in confusion. As he made is way back to the attic, she stayed in the kitchen, turning the letter over and over in her fingers, fearing what it contained, fearing how she might respond.


	3. The Letter

I own nothing but my own characters.

Chapter 2- The Letter

With shaking fingers she broke the green wax seal, cutting the mark in half. A single piece of parchment fell from the envelope, in the same neat hand writing that had written the address. Her breath caught in her chest as she began to read.

Autumn,

I must admit that I was surprised to hear that you had left the comfortable home in America. I know that your father fought for you to stay, but you left. I must say, child, I would have thought you to be the type to obey your father's wishes, and yet you traveled to England. I must ask why, and also, where you are staying, for I am highly surprised you did not stay with me. I continue to tell myself that the reason for this is ignorance of my return to the country, but I'm sure this is not so, as the first person I wrote a letter to was your mother. I am sure she would have told you, as I specifically requested her to do so. It has been three years since my return, and I have heard nothing of you or her. My first request that I make in this letter is that you respond, I would like news as to your activities. This may seem sudden, as I have had no contact with you at all in your life, but I would like to remedy that situation as soon as possible.

It is here that I suppose I must explain my lack of contact and involvement, though I'm sure you heard it all from your mother. It is here, that I will write the story, for its first and only time:

As I know you know, I only had one other sibling, your dearest mother. While older than me, I always found it my duty to care for her. A weak, often ill child your mother was. As we grew in the orphanage, she grew slowly sicker, until her eleventh birthday when she was released to go to a school I soon learned was Hogwarts. I was angered at her when she left me alone with the children of the orphanage, to the point that I vowed I would never speak to her again. Within three years I myself was called to the school in order to receive my magical education. Dumbledore himself came to collect me, in order to explain to the new head of the orphanage where I was going. When I got on the train, the first person to speak to me was my sister, who looked healthier than she had ever looked and explained to me everything, from the sorting to the classes. I acknowledge little of what she said, and eventually, throughout the year, we grew apart, mostly as a result of her being a Gryffindor while I was a Slytherin. As I'm sure you know, she graduated three years before me and got a job at Madame Malkin's, making custom dress robes for young witches. I graduated three years later and essentially cut off all contact with her. Nine years later, while I was traveling the world, I received word that she had married an old friend of hers from school, another Gryffindor. I ignored the invitation to the wedding. About five years after that, I received another letter from her, telling me I had a niece, you. Your birth came right in the middle of my rise to power, which would be stopped a few years later by a mere baby. The letter also read that your mother had been greatly weakened by the birth and was slowly dying. I visited you only once, and that was at the funeral of your mother, who died a month later. I felt no other obligation to her than to see her buried in the proper way and to see that the only other heir to our family would not follow her shortly. It is here that I am forced to admit that I felt no love for this woman, and can honestly say I hold no love for you. I am incapable of love, it weakens the strongest of people, but I must tell you all of this because you are technically my heir, and the last heir to the greatest house in the wizarding world. I feel no shame in admitting this to you, for I know that you hold little love for me, if any at all.

I could tell from the start that you would have a special power, and now I know this to be true. I have heard of the abilities you have, and I must say, they intrigue me. I have striven to learn more of it, but your father moved you to America, out of reach of my observations when he realized what you could do. I must admit, I cannot understand where this power comes from, or the type of magic which you use, but I know that it is powerful, and I know that I would care to learn more of it. It may be the only way to finish of the infuriating child who continuously plagues my ascent. Perhaps you may consider this my true motives for writing this letter, but I feel it must be done. You are my niece and I'm sure you will act as you should. Join me, fight for me, and take your position as heir. You are a Slytherin, a pure-blood and from what I have discovered, a most talented and powerful witch, and thus an asset to my team. I await your reply.

There was no signature, he didn't need one. Autumn sighed, shook her head and folded the letter. She knew that there was nothing she could do to avoid writing a response, but did not know what she would write. She could not tell him where she was staying, or that she had held a conversation with the very child who infuriated him so. She knew that her response had to be vague, and that he couldn't know that she was opposing his every move. She resented everything about him, and his letter. His request was ridiculous, the fact that he wanted her on his side, it was as though he only saw her as an asset, something that he could use to gain power. She leaned back and looked at the ceiling, but that's all she was to him; an asset, a pawn. Her mother had warned her of this, she had expected it, but it still hurt for some reason. Nothing could have brought her to write that letter in response, except for the very thing that happened next. A scream tore through the house from the rooms above Autumn's head. Forgetting her problems, she stuffed the letter back into her pocket as she raced up the stairs into Ginny's room.

She was the first to get there, with the exception of Hermione, who was looking frantically at the thrashing, apparently still sleeping girl. She raced forward, helping Hermione hold her arms down as Ginny clawed at her own hands and face. She had only seen this once before, and feared what the girl before her was seeing. Desperately, she attempted to remember what had been done, but nothing seemed to come to her, until Harry bolted through the door. She knew they had a history, and she knew that he might be one of the only ones who could save her.

"Harry, get over here! Hermione, move. Harry, take her arms and hold her. Do it! Or do you want her to die?" She yelled when neither one of them moved. Hermione jumped back as Harry jumped forward and grabbed Ginny's arms, crossing them across her chest and pulling her into a hug. Autumn muttered to herself so softly that Harry could not hear her, though she stood inches away and put her wand on Harry's hand. Slowly, a soft pink glow began to wash over Ginny, coming from Harry's hand and Ginny's screams began to subside into wild sobs, followed by slow steady breathing and her opening her eyes. She looked at Harry, who hugged her tightly before letting her go and looking around at the now packed room. Every member of the Weasley family looked at him inquiringly, but he simply stared at Autumn, who was tending to Ginny. "Ginny, you're going to be alright. That was a very old form of magic that you experienced, and a very powerful one, but it happened for a reason. Now, I know this may be hard, but, I need you to tell me what it was that you saw Ginny. Please, I need to know."

Ginny stared at her, her brown eyes glittering with tears. "I saw… death, destruction, torture. I saw the Dark Mark in the sky, smelled the smoke of all the fires, tasted the blood that had been spilled, felt the chill in the air and heard the screams of the innocent. Autumn, it was awful. What was it, why did it hurt so much?"

"It was a premonition I believe, and a strong one, from a strong power. You weren't ready for it, and had never experienced anything like it before. Like I said, it's an ancient magic that hardly anyone remembers, and for someone who hasn't experienced it… you're just lucky that you hadn't died." Autumn turned and looked at Bill, who had returned right before the scream tore through them all. He nodded at her without saying a word and turned to his parents.

"Mom, Dad, we've got to get the Order together. We need to hold an emergency meeting, as soon as possible. They others have to know this."

"You're right, Bill," Arthur said. "Molly, come along, Ginny will be alright… won't she?" He looked at Autumn.

"Yes. The spell should protect her as long as the energy that powers it remains true," she said, looking at Harry, then at Ron, who looked confused and Hermione who looked at Harry knowingly.

"Alright, see Molly? Come along, they need to sleep. Fred, George, Bill, come along. You too, Autumn. I think the others will want to know how you know all of this."

"I'm curious myself," said a new voice, causing everyone to spin around. A handsome young man stood behind the group, his red hair visible under the hood of his cloak, he hands covered in what looked like burns. Autumn looked curiously at him, assuming he had to have slipped in with the group.

"Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, throwing her arms around the second eldest Weasley boy. He chuckled and returned the hug enthusiastically.

"It's good to see you again. I've missed everyone. Although, I don't think right now is the best time to talk. We need to get the Order together, and I'm thinking I need to be filled in on everything that's happened since my last letter in May."

"Yeah, you do," Bill said, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder, causing him to wince. "You alright?"

"Dragon burn, hasn't completely healed."

"Must have been a nasty dragon," Harry said, having had experience with dragons.

"Hagrid's old friend."

"Norbert?!"

"Norberta, actually. Norbert's a girl, and she was protecting eggs when I went to work with her."

"Oh. That's not good. I know all about dragons and their eggs," Harry said wincing slightly.

Charlie laughed. "Sorry about that Horntail, Harry. I'm afraid she was my idea. See, four of us got to pick the dragons for the tournament, and I picked her. I never would have thought that you would have gotten her."

Harry just laughed and shook his head. Arthur smiled before becoming serious. "Alright, we need to get the Order together. I suppose it's pointless to tell the three of you to go to bed?" He asked Harry, Ron and Hermione, who all nodded. "Very well, come along. Not you, Ginny."

"But, Dad, it happened to me! Why can't I be there?" she said.

"Ginny," Autumn said, "remember our deal."

Ginny looked at her furiously, but knew it was no use arguing. She knew that if she tried to go anywhere, Autumn would know, and didn't have the energy to argue. She simply laid down and pulled the covers over her head as the others left the room. They entered the kitchen quietly, everyone sitting down but Charlie and Autumn. They began to talk quietly as they awaited replies from the rest of the Order as to the when and how of their arrival. Autumn took this opportunity to appraise the only member of the Weasley family she had yet to meet. He was shorter than his brothers, though a little taller than Harry, with deep blue eyes, and longer hair of the customary red that marked every member of the Weasley family. As he removed his traveling cloak she noticed that he was thicker than his brothers, stronger, and his toned arms were riddled with scars from burns and the claws of the creatures he dealt with. She noticed him wince again, as he shifted his shoulder and he left the room quietly. She followed him into the hall without the others noticing, and watched as he removed his shirt and looked at his burn in the mirror. It was large, covering most of his right shoulder, back and arm, and severe. She cringed as she watched him flex and break the blisters, and knew she had to do something.

"You really shouldn't be doing that. I mean, it helps heal lesser burns, but this is a lot more severe," she said, walking out of the shadow she had been hiding in.

"What do you know about dragon burns?"

"Nothing, but I know a lot about healing. Please, at least let me take a look?"

He nodded slightly, showing her the burn more clearly. She traced it lightly, checking each blister, and how well it had begun to heal. "How long ago did you receive this?"

"Just last night. It's not that bad is it?"

"Actually, it is. There are a lot of blisters, and the ones you broke look as though they've become infected. Also, it hasn't really begun to heal. Even after a night there should have been some improvement, although this may be better than it was last night, I wouldn't know. But here," she dug into her bag, which she had grabbed when leaving Ginny's room, and showed him a violet potion, "this should get rid of the infection and help speed the healing. You just have to rub it onto the face of the burn."

"The whole burn? That could be difficult. Would you mind helping me out?"

"Sure," she laughed, "but you have to hold still. It's going to sting the first few times you put it on initially." She slowly rubbed the potion onto the worst part of the burn, and felt his shoulders tense in the sudden pain. She finished quickly and handed him the vial. "This is going to have to be done each night, until this burn is gone."

"Each night? Listen, I hate to be a pain, but do you think that you could help me out? I don't want my family knowing how bad this really is."

"Sure, Charlie. But first, perhaps you should know my name. I'm Autumn Rose, but everyone just calls me Autumn."

"Pleasure. I've actually got a few questions, Autumn…" he said, pulling back on his shirt and staring at her.

"I'm sure you do, and they'll most likely be answered when everyone gets here. Any that aren't, you can ask me later."

"And you'll answer them?"

"What I can, yes." With that she returned to the kitchen, just as several Patronuses entered beside her, announcing that members of the Order would arrive within minutes. Sure enough the kitchen soon began to fill, and was soon so packed that Autumn and Charlie were pushed into a corner to make room for everyone else. Seats were soon arranged and the two of them sat at the end of the table, facing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the other end.

"Molly, what's going on?" an older woman, who Autumn recognized as Minerva McGonagall asked. "Your message said nothing but that there was an emergency. Harry got here fine didn't he, unless the healthy young man sitting there is an amazingly wonderful duplicate."

"Yes, Minerva, he made it just fine. This is about something else, something that just happened to Ginny. It was strange, I don't even know how to describe it… I don't even know what it was that happened…"

"Mrs. Weasley, perhaps I can answer that question," Autumn said, standing.

"You?" McGonagall asked.

"She does seem to understand it, Minerva," Molly replied. "Please, go ahead."

"Well," Autumn started, "what happened to Ginny is very rare, especially for children her age who have shown no previous aptitude for divination before. I've read about it and people who have the ability, but I've only seen one other person, who was experienced, have any such effects and that person willed them to happen. What Ginny had was a premonition, a very real, very potent premonition. Now, I am not saying she predicted the future, I'm saying that she saw a very possible version of the future if we don't win this war. This is very normal, especially for people who show aptitude in the art, as I have said. However, Ginny told me that she was never interested in divination, and had never had experience with it before, no déjà vu, no prophetic dreams, nothing. The only thing I can think is that someone who had seen this vision originally, planted them in Ginny's mind while she slept, perhaps on accident, looking for the closest open mind."

"Premonitions?" Minerva smirked. "Have you been talking to Sibyll?"

"Professor, I know that something as fantastic as divination can be a foreign language to some, but it is extremely possible. Even muggles experience déjà vu, some even have actual psychic abilities that aren't backed up by any other magical powers that would make them witches or wizards. The mind is more mysterious than anything there is, and it is in the subconscious that the ability to predict the future lies. Everyone is capable of it, it's just easier for some. I truly believe that Ginny had a premonition forced upon her by some outside source and that if she had been allowed to continue it, it would have killed her."

"Tell me, Autumn," Charlie said, "how'd you stop it?"

"Forcing premonitions on a person is an older magic than the magic we use today. It's not like anything else, and it can't be countered be anything we use in this age. I used an ancient magic against it. That seal that I placed on her mind should block any negative energies that would manipulate her, as long as the power that was put into it remains steadfast."

"What power is that?"

"I can't say, I wasn't the one whose power was taken, but I'm sure that nothing could ever take that energy away from her. She's protected by the strongest force imaginable right now. This should not happen again."

"How do you know about this ancient magic? I never knew that there was ever any other kind of magic."

"Every member of my family, for centuries, has written volumes upon volumes on the magic they use, and the magic they develop. There are spells that people have never seen, in languages that died out years ago. My father keeps every book safe, making sure that the books aren't destroyed, because they hold secrets about magic that some will never know. When I was a child, my father showed me these books, and read me the ones he could. As I grew older, I became determined to understand each book, and so, I began to read all of them, even the one's in languages I didn't understand. I soon began to understand all the words that my ancestors had written, and began to keep my own journal of what I was learning. It was in the earliest volumes that I learned of the first magic, the one that still powers everything we do, but is more potent than we could ever imagine. It is this natural magic that lies in every spell we perform, and everything we do."

"Is that how you healed the hole in my head?" George asked.

"Yes. However, in order to maintain balance of the order, it can only be used in its purest form sparingly, as I did with your head, George, and with Ginny."

"I still don't understand," Charlie said. "How can there be a magic that is out there that we know nothing about?"

"It's not that you know nothing of it, it's that you don't know you're using it. One of the best examples I suppose I can give is the act of choosing a wand, or should I say, a wand choosing you. It is that natural magic that flows through the wood and the core that matches itself with the energies and natural magic flowing through your own body. That is an ancient magic at work."

Autumn looked around at the faces that were turned to her. The look in Hermione's eyes was inquisitive and Autumn could tell that she was straining not to ask the questions milling through her head. She was about to speak, when Lupin spoke up.

"Who would have such the knowledge, and such the power?"

"Can you think of no one?"

"Would he have the knowledge of such a magic? It would seem that only through these writings that the knowledge would be known."

Autumn looked around the room. She knew exactly how he would have been able to gain access to the information, who he would have gone to. The letter in her pocket burned as she fought with herself, wondering whether or not she should tell those assembled who she was in reality.

"Tell them, Autumn," a strong voice said from the doorway. It was Ginny. "They will never understand until they know. You know that."

"I'm afraid it is not a happy story to tell."

"But, it would seem, a necessary one. I believe we all want to know exactly where his knowledge is coming from," Lupin said.

[Thanks to emeraldice77 and ShadowMoonDancer for their reviews. Special thanks to the latter for the idea of making Autumn a niece (I originally had her as a daughter... but it wasn't working and I needed someway to change it so thanks)


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